


Legs

by sluttyeren



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Dubcon/Noncon, I can't even tag the relationship because there is really no relationship between them, M/M, leg kink/ leg fetish, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1364230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sluttyeren/pseuds/sluttyeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren is an artist, and he draws everything he sees around him. He finds Levi, however, to be his favorite subject.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legs

**Author's Note:**

> Just warning you now this gets kind of creepy and fucked up, so don't be surprised when there is no happy ending.

Everyone has a feature that attracts them to someone instantly. For most people it was someone’s smile, their eyes maybe. Eren loved legs. Maybe it was growing up watching his sister’s friends doing gymnastics, but something about the way the muscles moved when someone walked or ran or just bent their legs was captivating to him. He spent a lot of time drawing them, playing with the anatomy in sketches and creating, in his mind anyway, a perfect set of legs. Maybe he was really weird. Sometimes he figured he was. It wasn’t exactly a fetish, and he never let it ruin his relationships (oh no… they were ruined by other issues altogether) but he couldn’t deny his fixation. One look in his sketchbook was enough for anyone to figure it out. He always kept this to himself though. Never would he turn these pictures in or hang them in an exhibit, these were only for him. Sometimes if he drew one of his significant others he would show them. Sometimes he flipped between his sketchbook and his camera, snapping quick little candid shots and tucking them between the pages.

He kept his book with him all the time, afraid if they were at his house and found it they would flip shit over it, even though it was innocent. He never did anything with the images, just kept them and flipped through once in a while trying to decide what it was that actually attracted him to each of them. The dancer with the incredible calves, the time he dated that girl with the thick thighs that he loved tracing with his fingers every chance he got. He could see his whole history with these people just looking back at a single sketch of their legs. So he knew he was weird, and that’s why he hid it. Kept it locked back where no one would catch it. He tried not to look down when someone was talking to him, knowing the normal thing to do was to watch their mouth, their face. Any art that he did share or put on display had perfectly acceptable subjects; landscapes, portraits, still lives. He accepted that his little infatuation was strange and that others would reject it, so he didn’t give them the chance to.

Except it’s hard to hide this kind of thing when you’re sitting in the park sketching trees and someone runs by with the most incredible legs you’ve seen in your life. Let him run by, Eren thought. You don’t even know him. But you could. You could draw him. You could photograph him. Go.

He got up, threw his book in his bag, and started jogging after him. Stupid, stupid idea. He had to pick up the pace, this guy could really haul ass. At least he was dressed for it. It was hot, luckily, so it was easy to see this guy’s legs exposed by his running shorts. Thank the powers that be for ninety degree weather. He thought he’d never catch the guy until he led him out of the park, up to a corner where he stopped to wait for traffic. Eren gained on him fast then while he watched the guy jog a little in place, tendons stretching and contracting beautifully with the motion.

“Are you following me.”

It wasn’t so much a question as an accusation. Eren realized he had come to a stop a yard or two from this guy, who was now glaring at him and raising his hands defensively, and had been checking out his legs without once looking at his face.

“Oh, sorry. Not really I just…” He had not thought this through at all. He knew exactly what he wanted, however he couldn’t just run up to a stranger and say ‘hey, I like your legs. Come back to my apartment and let me draw you or take pictures of you. Thanks’. Except he’d already done the running up to him part, so now he had to do _something._

“Hey, genius. You need something, or can I go?” Eren looked up again. Shit. Stop looking down. Focus. The traffic light had changed, the guy standing in front of him now less defensive and more aggravated, hands on his hips and foot tapping impatiently.

“You’ve got great legs.” Well. Maybe he shouldn’t have led with that, but he wasn’t about to take it back now. The guy just raised an eyebrow at him, stilling his restless foot. Eren silently mourned the loss of the movement.

“Thanks I guess. Was that all?” At least he wasn’t totally freaked out. Eren decided not to push his luck.

“Yeah, I guess you gotta keep running, so… See ya.” He might not have acted it, but the guy still probably thought he was a freak. He just shrugged and moved closer to the curb, looking from side to side for traffic.

“Wait!” Eren called to him before he could step off the curb. He huffed and turned around.

“What now, my ass too?” That would absolutely be pushing his luck.

“No, no! Just, what’s your name?”

The guy looked him up and down like he was appraising a piece of furniture or something. Finding no obvious objectionable physical abnormalities, he actually responded.

“Levi.”

This time when he turned he didn’t hesitate to jog across the street, picking his run back up when he reached the sidewalk on the other side.

Eren went back to his little bench, and failed to draw more boring trees. The limbs didn’t look like branches at all, unfortunately. He tore the sheet out and crumpled it, tossing it in the trash before leaving. There was no point, he obviously wouldn’t be accomplishing anything else here today.

But he did come back again a few days later. He wasn’t even sure if he found the man himself appealing or not, but his legs were an entirely different matter. They were beautiful. From what Eren could remember of their brief interaction Levi was abrasive, and his face wasn’t all that attractive. That might not be true, he just made unattractive expressions. His features themselves weren’t offensive, but the way he carried himself seemed to put people off. He didn’t care for Levi, he decided. He wouldn’t draw his face. When they met, he had barely looked at it. Today, when Levi ran by Eren’s nose was buried in his book until he saw thin ankles in his periphery. His eyes swept up those lean legs until he finally did look Levi in the eyes. He looked bored, and there were worry lines on his forehead. He watched Eren watching him, and Eren could practically see the wheels turning in his mind.

“So you draw.”

“Yes.”

“Is that what you were doing last time you were here?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you chased me to tell me you liked my legs.” Like last time they met, it was more of an accusation than an actual question, as if he were just confirming his theory.

“Yeah.” Admittedly it was more than that, but he never owned up to how consuming this was for him. It was still difficult to keep his eyes trained forward, but he was passing for normal (or at least non-psychotic) and that was all he needed for now. Hopefully Levi wouldn’t be the prying kind.

“What is it you like about them.” His voice was bored, but Eren could tell he was genuinely curious now. He wouldn’t have stopped on his presumably routine running path unless he wanted information. Eren realized Levi still hadn’t asked him his name, yet this is what he was more concerned about. He didn’t trust himself to speak now. If he had to itemize everything that enticed him about Levi’s legs –or legs in general- this wouldn’t be ending well. Most likely with Levi calling the cops or at the very least a psych ward or something. Pack him away like the grade A oddity that he was. After a few moments Levi seemed to realize he wasn’t going to speak, but instead of looking irritated by this it was almost as though Eren had validated whatever thoughts he had anyway. He just smirked and started jogging off again, down the same route Eren followed him down the first time. This time Eren stayed on the bench, clutching his sketchbook and staring unabashedly at his legs. If he had bothered to look up, he would’ve seen Levi looking over his shoulder at him.

Levi decided to get more daring. It was over a week before he saw Eren on the bench again. When he did spot him there, he slowed down, coming to sit beside him quietly. Eren looked up, and then down of course, tilting his head quizzically at this strange man. He should have been issuing a restraining order against him, not joining him like they were going on a fucking picnic. For a minute neither of them spoke. Eren went back to his drawing, albeit distracted now, and Levi just watched. It was just a drawing of pigeons, but he had put so much detail into it. Their eyes, the feathers, it was as close to photorealistic as Levi had ever seen someone draw. But he held onto how impressed he was for now.

“Why are you drawing pigeons?”

Eren looked up at his face again, and again wondered why he asked such questions but still didn’t bother figuring out who he was.

“I draw a lot of things, usually just whatever is in front of me at the time.”

“Do you ever draw people?”

“Sometimes.”

“Draw me.”

And Eren did. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t bother double checking to see if he was sure, he jumped on the offer like it was what he was waiting for. He drew his legs, his body. He never drew his face. Levi insisted he look at his sketches of him, his photographs. He never told him if he was happy with them or not, just looked at them and then gave them back. Eren still didn’t care for Levi. He seemed like a decent man, and he hadn’t done anything wrong, but he couldn’t find it in him to actually feel anything for him other than admiration for his body. Levi picked up on that when Eren sketched him.

“Eren.”

“Hmm…”

“Why am I here.”

Eren looked up for a second, his brows pulling together as he kept sketching. ‘What are you talking about? I’m drawing.”

“Sure, but is that all?”

This time he put his pen down when he looked up at him. “I love your legs, you just happen to be attached to them.” Levi actually laughed, let his head fall back and laughed openly.

“Very direct. I like it. Go on then.” He didn’t ask him again.

He still knew he was fucking weird. The very few and far between times Levi actually did come see him to let him draw were nice. Outside of these times where he was allowed that freedom to give in to the strange inclination he’d always carried, Eren still had to watch himself before every line on the page turned into wiry, muscled limbs. He thought it would be dangerous, feeding this gross obsession, but he felt extremely satisfied. He probably thought about it less now, even. Eren spent less time focusing on people’s bodies and actually looking at them. He had gotten what he wanted for the most part, and he was happy with it. Something he never could have asked anyone for out of fear of rejection or worse, but it was his now. Not that Levi really ‘belonged’ to him per se, but that wasn’t a major concern. He suspected Levi liked the attention. He was active and he was obviously proud of his body, of course the praise went straight to his head. He let Eren do what he wanted, it was harmless. Even when he asked Levi to take his clothes off, he never made any moves on him. Honestly Levi figured he wasn’t even excited about seeing him naked, the little freak just wanted to see more of his thighs. He was right, of course.

Levi didn’t really start to see the red flags until Eren gave him things to wear when he drew him. First it was just clothes, tight fitting jeans and shorts that left very little to the imagination. It was bizarre, but everything about this kid was as far as Levi’s experience had shown him. He didn’t really get creeped-out until Eren touched him. He sat at his feet, with his camera this time, and Levi just laid back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about work tomorrow and spacing out until he felt Eren’s hand circling around his ankle. He jerked up onto his elbows, but Eren slipped his hand away before he could say anything.

“You have very thin ankles.” And he picked his camera back up to his face and went back to work without another word, from either of them.

All of these things should have put Levi off, but it all happened so slowly that he realized he had probably just grown too accustomed to Eren’s brand of grotesque to see how wrong this all was. It had been his idea to entertain the little shit’s fetish in the first place, so he had no one to blame but himself for the position he was in now. When he slid the stockings up his legs the only comfort he felt was knowing that Eren never showed anyone his work, wouldn’t even have shown Levi the images if the man hadn’t insisted on it himself. Eren had been planning this for some time, it seemed. He always had things for Levi to wear lately, so he must have been picking things up just for him. None of it would ever fit Eren, and Levi never really gave that a thought until now and it made his skin crawl a little. Somehow he still held onto the notion that Eren didn’t want him -that this was still “art” or something- but when he walked back into the room where Eren was waiting it dawned on him how this had evolved without him seeing it or being able to stop it. Eren had thought about this for longer than Levi probably realized. He did finally have what he wanted, but now he could afford to be greedy. He had been pushing the boundaries with Levi, with the ridiculous clothing and subtle touches. He was getting bold, and he decided he would have what he wanted. Just the sight of Levi like this, nothing on his legs but those tall socks got him unreasonably aroused. He didn’t waste any time crossing the room, dropping down to worship his legs with his hands, his lips. It was shameful, and repulsive, and Levi was rooted to the spot, arms drawn up and sneering in disgust. He still couldn’t bring himself to stop Eren, even when he stood up, his hands trailing up his legs to his ass. Not when Eren turned him around, making little appreciative sounds in his throat while he admired the view from behind him. Not when his hard dick dug into him through their clothes, not when he heard his zipper pulling and felt hot, bare flesh sliding between his legs. Not even when Eren was pressed flush against his back, hands pushing his thighs closer together and moaning in his ear. It was too much friction and Levi hated it but Eren didn’t stop, his hands tight on his legs and hips moving faster until he was twitching and coming between Levi’s thighs.

And Levi waited, stood still with his legs parted for Eren to take pictures from every angle and to run his hands up his legs again, staring with manic eyes until he sat down and let Levi go back into the bathroom and take them off and stare at himself in the mirror, shaking. He felt stained, like no matter how hard he tried his skin wasn’t clean. He ran home, showered and sat in front of the TV for an hour before he showered again. The next day he started on a new jogging route.


End file.
